Here Be Dragons

*************** HERE BE DRAGONS **************** an ADULT orc yaoi story written by Lustful_Orcs partly based on a story-concept by DemonDragon DESCRIPTION: Tied to a pole, waiting to be sacrificed, six Orcs of six tribes lose all hope but discover to their surprise some monsters are better not left alone. CREDITS: This story was written by Lustful_Orcs on request of DemonDragon, who conceived the story’s backbone. WARNING: This story is quite explicit and is rated Triple X, NC-17 meaning it is suitable for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit descriptions dealing with -homosexual gay sex between males of the same gender- and in addition to that contains scenes that might be regarded as distasteful or even disturbing. Liking or disliking this story or its direct or implied content is in no way indicative of the sexual preference of the reader. All acts take place between consenting adults and are fictional. The writer's sole intent is to provide the reader with an entertaining or even stimulating reading experience. The writer can not be held responsible for anything closely or remotely associated with this story, sentient life or the universe in general. Protected by international copyright laws. This story or parts thereof may be kept, multiplied and printed for personal use or that of single acquaintances at the same time, but may not be quoted or publicized without expressed consent of the writer. The writer Lustful_Orcs can currently be contacted at: lustful_orcs AT hotmail.com. If you want to be notified about the latest lustful_orcs stories, as well as goodies such as eBook versions and re-releases, then please join his Author's Mailing List at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lustful_orcs/

Open your mind, buckle up and enjoy the ride !

Lustful_Orcs June 2003

December 2007 PDF edition

*************** HERE BE DRAGONS **************** an ADULT orc yaoi story written by Lustful_Orcs partly based on a story-concept by DemonDragon

It was a cool spring morning in the Kingfisher Delta, and the mists of early morning dampened the lush forest and grasslands with shiny pearls of dew. This was Igokh Radl Soitac, Six Tribe Forest, home of the six Orc tribes that lived off the land amidst a wilderness where no human dared tread. The tribes lived a happy life here, the corn grew huge cobs on the fertile soil, the cattle, sheep and pigs they raised were beefy and full of health, and the tribal wars they fought were mere Orc-hunts for the fun that could be had with the captives. Blades nor blood were drawn in these lands and the tribes lived in harmony with themselves and the overwhelming beauty of the Orclands that spawned and sustained them. And yet strange, strange things went on every spring. This was not as much spoken of as it could be seen. For in a huge grassy forest-clearing there stood two black poles. This would not easily bewilder the onlooker, were it not that from each pole three young male Orcs of exceptional beauty hung by their ankles, their wrists tied to their necks. The six Orcs wore nothing but small yellow trunks that fitted them as tight as their skins, and all six of them were painted with the colors of the six tribes that had so oddly left them hanging there, protected from the wild animals by six Orc warriors with shiny metal spears whose glistening in the morning sun signaled their presence in the forest around the clearing. The six neatly tied Orcs, and it need be stressed once more that all of them were in the prime of their lives, rippling with muscle and of striking beauty of both body and face, simply hung there suspended by their ankles -their mist-moistened bodies shining in the early morning light- and could do nothing but await the things to come. So the halfnaked Orcs hung there shivering and shaking, not as much by the cold of that early morning in spring, but by the sheer fright and terror that filled their minds. “We be fucked good..” one of the Orcs hissed and sighed a shivering sigh. “That me wissh.. “ the Orc to his left hissed back in equal terror, “Me wissh me got hard rumping by trunktailed giant rather than being green monsterbait here on pole. This not fucked this be doomed..” An Orc from the other pole growled in anger: “You Oharac Radl Orc be coward! We go live and kill monster and that we do! You Oharac Orcs be little scared purr-meows! Meoww! Meoww! Me sooo scared be!!” “You shut op or you be getting Oharac foot for grub!” the Orc of the Oharac tribe snapped, glad to get the chance to replace his fear with some good old-fashion Orcish threats. “You not can! You go kick and me go lick Orcfoot all nice like gurk! You bound and being little pussy ‘bout it! Me not fear of death!” “You no scared?!” another Orc replied, “Poles be fifteen feet apart and wind be blowing but me smells you be shitting stink all time!” “Will you dumb gurks go hush?!” the oldest of the Orcs snarled ferociously,

“We all be scared and we all be shitting stink! If me had gotten grub and soak last days and damn trunks be fitting as should me would piss myself, that be my scared now!” “My trunks be squeeze-tight too! Me now has three throatlumps instead of one!” “Linen thingies be right color for pissing too!” an Orc who had yet not spoken added, “Mine be so tight big strong Orc got sweats tying tight shutcord. Me rather hang nudie than all squeezed-in like me be right now! All of you get Dwargh-size thingie like me?” The Orcs mumbled in agreement. “We Orcs hang here and go be grub for big winglizard. Tribes go dump us for monstergrub but they be squeezing us into tight little cloth things size of Dwarghs. Me no get it…” “That because you be dumb!” “You take back! Me go tearing you..” “You be tearing yellow trunks and go look stupid for beast! Me sees cloth thingie be throbbing! What be matter, dumbie gurk? Can’t get tail up?” “Me go KILL you!” “You go squirt Dwargie-pants all sticky if talking big words like that! Me SEES you be hot on me! It be fun look for beast if Ogac warrior be all slick and sticky like that!” “Me HATE you!” “You not sweat it: you know me would give you long big suckling if we not be tied up! Me likes you and you sure be good looks!” This calmed the Ogac somewhat. “Go hush up!You two talks of squirting be making my trunks more tight!” “Damn Dwargiepants and damn sacrifice! We six Orcs be having six-tribe tail itch and we not can play fun with them!” the word sacrifice sobered them up. A silence came over the Orcs and one by one the repressed bulges in their tight trunks receded somewhat. “Soon beast will swoop down and that be end of it. We be green meat grub and that be that..” “Me not sure on that..” one of them hoarsely hissed, “Me been hearing things on big monster in tribe..” ‘You be hearing lot then Oclac gurk! Fate of spring sacrifice-Orcs be mystery.” “Me not be slave-Orc! Me means: me not be gurk YET…” “Yet? What yet be meaning in this?” “Me been hearing we go and be gurks for big monster.” “That better than being grub! But monsters not think so how can be slaves then to beast?” “Winglizards be old as time. Me been hearing we go be gurks and not grub.” “Me rather be your tribe’s rumping-gurk than cramming food up mouth of ugly beast…” “Orcs..?” the youngest one squeaked, “Me be scared like little mousie...” The bound Orc started sobbing. “You no cry! Winglizard be huge big beast, so one bite kill you on spot and he not go nibble you like rats be doing. He go bite you in half and that be a death of heroes. You go be proud big beast leave tribe alone because you be grub for monster.” “God of Thunder! LOOK!! LOOK!!” It came from beneath the mists. A small flying shape flew towards them, becoming larger and larger as he advanced. It was a big red lizard with a thick, long tail and enormous wings.

“Monster be DRAGON!” one of the Orcs hissed in fear and managed to utter: “You all hold piss and pray to Orcs in sky! We go and be heroes now!” Alas, these noble words fell to waste. “ME NOT WANTING DIE!! ME NOT WANTING DIE!!” the youngest one worded all of their thoughts, and the tied-up Orcs squirmed like strung-up worms in desperate attempts to break the ropes that bound them to the poles of sacrifice. Prayers for strength were yelled and mingled with intensely humiliating shrieks for mercy of the squirming Orcs that dangled from the poles. While the Orc guards in the woods ran for their lives the red Dragon hovered over them, swinging the big Orcs in the mighty gusts of wind from his gigantic red yet batlike wings. If the Orcs hadn’t been kept hungry and dry for three days, each and every one of them would’ve soiled himself in fear of this formidable beast. The Dragon’s body was about thirty foot long and his tail equally so. His body was glistening with tiny red scales and somewhat resembled a man, but a powerful one with tail and wings, and his beastly head had huge, huge scales and horns. The Dragon thudded down on the grass, it’s reptilian feet sinking nearly a foot in the soil by the sheer weight they carried. Looming over them it stood twenty-five feet tall, its breathtakingly large wings spread out full and its bulging arms with one-foot clawnails on its stubby fingers. It raised its enormous head and roared a thundering, groundshaking roar that echoed for miles through the forest. The Orcs found peace with their fate and let their bodies go limp, overcome by the calm of imminent death. This was it. Their thick Orc blood would soon splatter the ground and all over the Orcs left hanging for the next bite. They would get eaten one by one and that would be the end of things. The enormous Dragon plunged it’s head down and started sniffing the scent of the halfnaked Orcs strung up there for him. The Orcs could not help but have their nipples harden by the searing hot Dragonbreath that stroked their sweating bodies. The Dragon growled a booming growl that shook the Orcs. The Dragon brought his pointy head up close and sniffed strongly, his snout nearly touching the yellow linen trunks of the Orc of Ogac. “No bite Orc there!” The Ogac squeeked quite unmanly, terrified by this sudden interest for his tightly wrapped Orchood. Suddenly the Dragon raised his head into the air and roared deafeningly loud. He grabbed the two bundles of Orcs off of the poles and clutched them in his huge reptilian hands. Then he crouched down, jumped up and beating his huge wings he flew off with his prey. The Orcs screamed and screamed as they dangled two hundred feet into the air, soaring over the treetops with breathtaking speed. They were so vulnerable, tied up into two bundles like that. As the wind blew past them they could see the forest below shooting by as they rapidly flew from their birthgrounds. The bodies of the six Orc tribesman thudded into one another by the wind’s force. Suddenly the Dragon opened his wings wide and soared over Kingfisher lake. Once over Kingfisher lake a stretch of grassland was passed, and then they arrived at Thunder Hill, where the huge dragon had its lair. He swooped down and rammed his feet into the ground, sending a huge shock through the Orcs he carried. He almost gently dropped them

on the ground, raised his head in another earpiercing roar and flew off to his lair halfway up Thunder Hill. The Orcs just lay there out of breath, pumping air and trying to regain themselves. “Well, well, well… Looks like the greenboar have arrived!” a sharp voice sneered. They hastily looked up and saw four Dwarves walking up to them. They wore black fur trunks and vests and leather sandals. More worrisome was the four Dwarves each had big scourges under their belts, long knobbed handles with broad strips of thick leather dangling from them. “Kneel!” the Dwarf commanded in ancient Orx, and they clumsily complied as quick as they could, sitting up on their knees in two rows of three, wrists tied to their necks. The Dwarf who’d spoken before yanked his scourge from under his belt , walked up to them and looked them over. “Niiice colors!” he grinned and looked at the tribal paints on the Orcs chests. He walked up to the biggest one and pointed the knobbed end of his scourgehandle at his face. “NAME!” “Me.. me be Orc Okratan…” The Dwarf nearly exploded. “That’s not your name! NAME!!” “Me be Orc Okratan!” all the anxieties of the last days had taken their toll and the big Orc burst out crying. The Dwarf jabbed the knobbed scourgehandle into his mouth and screamed: “Okratan is dead! Stone-cold dead! From now on your name is GURK! Now what’s your name?!” he popped the scourgehandle out of the sobbing Orc’s mouth , who screamed: “Me be GURK! Me be GURK now!!” the Dwarf stepped back and made a wide gesture. “You’re all gurks now! You’re the gurks of the Dragonlord and this day we’ll teach you how to be good little gurkies!” The six Orcs simultaneously sighed and another Dwarf smiled: “You gurks thought you’d get eaten!” the Orcs nodded, quite relieved. The first Dwarf spoke again, his words now being a lot less harsh than they were. “You gurks can count on not being killed, no need to fear death: you’re quite safe!” The Orcs smiled but suddenly the Dwarf harshed up again. “The gurks’ll get tied, whipped and worked like the beasts they are, but death is not among our intentions. Your Master from this day on is the mighty Dragonlord and we’ll make sure you’ll fulfill his every need!” “This Dragon be –ungl!-“ the Oharac got the scourgehandle jabbed up his mouth. “Gurks start out with ‘Master’. That you’re seven feet tall does not mean we can’t –or won’t- whip respect into your green gurk rump!” He pulled out the handle with a wet pop, “Well?” “Master Dwarf.. Big Dragon not go and eat us?” “To you it’s DragonLORD and you’d better make him not eat you! We Dwarves serve him but the six of you are just gurks so there are no guarantees, never!” the Orcs gulped. “Now on this first day you won’t get worked but we’ll teach you obedience instead. Got that?” the Orcs nodded.

“We’ll teach you to be good little gurks for your Dragonlord and we’ll have a little fun with your sorry green rumps too! Are your trunks nice and tight?” Six Orc nods. “You! Yours seems –especially- tight! I was talking about teaching you sorry gurks obedience and suddenly it’s nothing but throbs in your yellows! What’s that about?” “Me.. me be sorry Orc, Master..” The Dwarf let his scourge swoosh. “Gurk! Me be sorry gurk!” The poor Ogac shrieked in fear; “You’re sorry indeed, but I like your eagerness. I’d say you’ll make a fine gurkie by the end of the day..” The Dwarf slipped out of his simple sandal and rubbed his foot over the throbbing linen. “You’re quite a big gurkie too!” he praised with sudden kindness and the Ogac grinned shyly. “First let’s get aquainted. Orcs like sniffing each other when they meet so you gurks may sniff our feet to get to know us.” How humiliating! Sniffing up an Orc was good manners indeed, but being all tied up and sniffing feet was quite something else. The youngest Orc burst out in tears. The lead Dwarf walked to him, put the big Orc head to his chest and rubbed his back in comfort. “Eeeeasy there gurkie! You’re safe with us, there’s no need for big gurk tears now.. You get to be gurkies of the mighty Dragonlord and if you serve him well you bring honor to your tribe. There: that’s better!” The Dwarf stepped back and announced: “Your tribes have chosen the six of you to serve the Dragonlord. The better a gurk you are, the more honor will befall your tribe. To serve your Dragonlord is to serve your very tribe itself. The gurkies will bow down now and sniff our feet.” One by one the Orcs obeyed and started sniffing the scent of their masters, hesitantly at first but then their Orcish instinctive curiosity for body odors took over and they greedily sniffed up these alien scents. None of them dared to stop unless told to and so they sniffed on and on for several minutes. “Allright: sit up!” The Orcs sat up on their knees again and awaited further instructions. “You: promise us and yourself that you’ll serve the Dragonlord and us for all you’re worth and swear on your Orcish Pride you’ll be our humble and loyal gurk… Go on!” This was serious: an oath sworn on Orcish Pride was as binding as the strongest shackles, and these oaths could not be forsaken like humans often do. The Orc closed his eyes and let his head hang low in defeat. The Dwarf let his finger coarse on the lines of his tribal paint. “Warrior of Ocilacac, don’t fear. You’ll get a good chance at freedom when you’ve proven to be a fine gurk so the winters won’t come and go for you here. Swear your oath now.” The Ocilacac yielded. “Me Okraturik of tribe of Ocilacac swear on Tribe, Pride and Life me will go and be.. good gurk to Dragonlord and the Dwarfs that be my Masters now. This be sworn.” The Dwarf kneaded the muscles of his shoulder and nodded in approval. “Cut this gurkie loose.” One of the Dwarves pulled a knife and cut the thick rope that was tied around the Orc’s neck. The Orc held out his arms and his wrists were freed too. Then the Dwarf got behind him and cut the rope around his ankles and wound it off of the Orc’s legs. “Orc of the Tribe of Ogaclac: You’re next...”

Minutes later the Orcs all sat on their knees, freed of the ropes but now bound by their oaths. “Good: you now truly are the gurks of the Dragonlord. Bring forth the gurkchain!” One of the Dwarves had a long chain and walked up to the Orc on the left. He opened a small steel shackle and shut it around the Ocilacac’s snoutring. He then let the black steel chain slide through his fingers and shackled the Ogaclac’s snoutring to it. He then went on shackling the snoutrings of the Oharac, the Ozacac, the Ogac and the Oclac warriors. The six Orc tribesmen sat there, kneeling neatly in a row with their snoutrings shackled to a black round-linked chain. “Now there’s six good gurkies! Follow us on all fours, we’ll show you your new home!” The Orcs crawled after the Dwarves, the gurkchain swinging between their snouts, following them to a hole in the mountain closed off with a door of steel bars. The lead Dwarf swung the door open. “This one’ll be locked at night to keep the gurks in and the bears out. If you’ve been a bad gurk we’ll tie you to it and whip your rump real good…” The Dwarf cheerfully commented and the Orcs followed them into the small cave. Next the entrance was closed off by a hide. The Orcs at first thought it was to keep the cold out, but when the Dwarf opened it they decided it was meant to keep the stink in. Their sensitive snouts picked up all sorts of smells signaling Orcs had been kept locked up here for a long time. It was a strong Orc smell, quite offensive for most but the Orcs felt comforted by it as they smelled all sorts of Orc body odors, but the smell of blood was not among them, nor did the stench carry the odor of mortal fear, odors any Orc could distinguish. “In!” They followed and entered a small chamber hacked out of the solid stone of Thunder Mountain and filled up with a thick layer of stinky, moist sand. In the middle of their new home burned a small fire with a hole in the rock ceiling above it. To the left lay a big pile of old ragged hides spreading a strong Orc smell, to the right lay a big tree trunk, likely meant for them to sit on. On the walls hung six pairs of orcsized shackles and a collection of straps and other tools of punishment likely to be used on them should they be disobedient. In the wall facing them a small hole was hacked out -about four foot high, wide and deep- and closed off with a steel bar door. The Orcs fell silent intimidated by this small filthy cave that was to become their home and the fear-inspiring stuff inside of it. “Like your new home, gurks? First rule is nothing new comes in and nothing old goes out. There’ll be no new hides, no fancy woodcarving or whatever you used to do: you’re gurks now. Fancy new ideas get to play with the stuff hanging there and get locked in the gurkcage there. Fire. Since it’s your first night here and we’re really too kind, you’ve got a fire here. Fire has to be earned in the day to be had at night. Good gurks get fire and bad gurks get.. other things. No fire means no warmth, no light and raw grub. We supply the fire, but you’d better have some firewood to burn. You’ll be serving us all day and that means we’ll work you hard, you’ll serve the Dragonlord in the evenings so consider this your home because it’s the only place you’ll have to come to breath and sweat off your exhaustion. Oh, right: cavewall-drawings get licked off. Am I clear?” The Orcs nodded, making the gurkchain swing between their snoutrings. Sweat off their exhaustion.. They could readily smell a lot of Orcs had been doing that here!

“And now we’ll show you the fields we’ll work you on.. You’ll get some practice crawling around and you lazy gurks get to sweat for us too!” And so the Orcs were shown the fields and surroundings, all the while crawling on all fours as hastily as the Dwarves could make them. Afterwards they were led back to their small cave and three of the four Dwarves left. The six gurkchained Orcs thudded down on the pile of hides, heavily panting and profusely sweating by the strain of all that crawling under the surprisingly hot afternoon sun. So there they lay, adding their sweats and odors to that of the Orcs that had lived in the cave before them. “Goood gurkies: very nice crawling for your first day, we’re all very pleased with you..” The Dwarf soothingly said and let the huge green Orcs come to breath. “We’ll work you hard but don’t worry: we’re not monsters or anything. You’re the gurks of the Dragonlord so we’ll take good care of you. Being a gurkmaster carries big responsibilities.” This Dwarf obviously was the friendlier one of the four. “Master..?” “Go on..” “Master Dragonlord be ferocious beast? If we be bad gurks, he go eat us?” The Dwarf smiled, “You ought to get some on that bulging rump of yours for calling the Dragonlord a beast but no, I really don’t think he’ll eat you. We’ll get really tough on you but you gurks can rest assured: We won’t treat you any different than another Orc tribe would treat a gurk captive.” The Orcs were delighted to hear they were not likely going to get mauled or abused beyond Orc standards. This was going to get rough and hard, but they felt confident their Tribal Chieftains had not sacrificed them to be killed. But that huge Dragon monster filled them with fear. Dwarves with whips were one thing but a ferocious thirty foot dragon was quite another. “First day’s always the hardest…” The Dwarf volunteered, “You’re made a gurk and it’s all new to you but you’ll learn to trust us as the weeks pass and perhaps we might even get along a bit, er… speaking from Master to gurk, that is! I’ll leave you now & we’ll fetch you this evening to offer you to our Dragonlord. Talk some Orcstuff..” The Dwarf shoved the thick firewood logs closer together and left. They heard the steel door bang shut and being locked with two hard clangs. “Me thinks it not all bad...” “Me guesses we could be dragonshit by now so comparing that nothing be bad..” “We be getting worked hard by Dwarves and have to go work hard for monster. That do beat getting eaten. Me big scared of winglizard. Dwarves go talk all harsh and like making Orcs sweat, but they not hit with whips yet so me thinks they be safe. But winglizards me not know of. Dwarfs say beast not go eat us but they not can stop monster if beast wants go grub us..” The youngest Orc started sobbing again and the Orcs at his sides hugged him with their bodies. “You not go cry now. Me been gurk of Oclac tribe and that not all bad. Dwarfs not real mean me thinks. They be harsh on Orc but me likes it so far.” “Me likes too.” The Ocilacac added and the others made sounds of agreement. “You no worry: you be weakest so we go protect you.” This proved comforting. CLANG-CLANG! The lock was opened and the steel bar door creaked open. The four Dwarves barged in and the lead Dwarf looked them over.

“I see the green gurks have rested and dried up. Now that’s just fine because you’ll get to serve the Master now. On-your-feet!!” The Orcs got up as quickly as the gurkchain permitted. The lead Dwarf inspected them and rubbed the knob on the handle of his scourge under the Oharac’s balls in his yellow trunks. “Niiice and tight! Gurks: Follow!” The Orcs followed the lead Dwarf and the other three made sure the Orcs did not try to flee. They left the smelly Orc cave and walked the path leading to the Dragon’s lair halfway up Thunder Hill. They entered the huge cave and into a big hall where the Dragon lay waiting for them. The enormous creature lay flat on his stomach, his big pointed head resting on his forearm as if he were basking in the sun. His big wings lay spread out over the granite floor and his enormous muscular legs lay spread-out on the stone with his big tail draped over one of them. Torches lit this hall and it could readily be seen the caves stretched much further than this hall alone. The Dragon lay behind a square black mat that had fifteen foot sides and was a foot thick, and piercingly gazed at them with his reptilian eyes. The Orcs were filled to the brim with fear: the monster was far bigger and menacing now they got to really see it, his head covered with all sorts of white horns, his fiery red scales glistening in the torchlight. The friendlier Dwarf undid their gurkchain and sternly ordered: “Row up on that mat for your Dragonlord! Kneel down, knees wide!” What could they do? They got on the mat. It was surprisingly soft and smooth under their bare green feet, being made of treesap-leather it was soon warm to the touch and had a skinlike feel. The Orcs sniffed the scents of the cave and what they smelled startled them. They smelled the big Dragon most of all, a sweet smell that was actually quite pleasing. But they also smelled many Orcs had been here, and it was clear as a mountain spring they had been very, very aroused. The Orcs knelt down as ordered, facing the Dragon whose reptilian eyes looked them over. The Dragon took in a lot of air and the Orcs feared being burned to a crisp with firebreath. “So these would be my new gurks.. Quite a finelooking bunch…” The Orcs gasped for air in shock, for it was the Dragon who had spoken. It was a strong, thundering voice, yet it was pleasingly friendly, entirely conflicting his ferocious looks. “Nice gurks, your Chieftains have chosen you well.” The Dragon gazed at each and every one of them, clearly enjoying the sight of their halfnaked bodies. He started sniffing slowly. “Mmmmmm..” he thundered, “Fresh Orcmeat that’s been sweating.. I guess you’ll sweat some more this night! Nice green bodies, fine fine meat… Up on your feet gurks, step up and let me look at you…” The Dragon’s voice was so friendly! He was in total control and really liked seeing their bodies. The Orcs complied and the Dragon sniffed their scent. “Mmmm, all of you smell quite tasty..” somehow all of them understood the Dragon didn’t refer to eating them at all but rather had a particular liking of Orcs. The Dragon clearly got a little aroused they could see by the way he looked at them and his breath seemed to quicken somewhat. “Go on my gurks, show off your tasty Orc bodies to me..” The Orcs were surprised at this sudden interest being paid to them. They nervously looked around. “Come on now, don’t be shy! My gurks will show off their greens to me now..” Surprisingly it was the youngest one who stepped forward and started rhythmically tensing his muscles as if dancing to unheard music, turning around in circles and showing his agility.

“Mmmm.. that’s the spirit! You’re a fine-looking gurk and you know how to please! It’s obviously the tribe of Ogac that’s got the most courage!” This teasing provocation hit the spot and soon all six of them showed off their bodies to the thirty foot creature who most obviously was enjoying this. In some mysterious way it proved to be arousing to the Oharac too, and it showed. “Look at that! Something green’s fighting that cloth! Look at it’s pushing and throbbing! That Orctail wants out, I can tell!” The Oharac blushed a dark green. “Don’t be modest now! Be proud of that Orctail! Go on: give it a good rubbing. I just know you’d like that!” The big Dragon started excitedly slapping his big tail from side to side as he saw what was going on in front of his eyes. “Now look at the six of you! My six green gurks are coming alive between their legs! Look at that throbbing, look at the size of those! They want out: I can see they want out!” Orcs aren’t exactly known for their sexual inhibitions, so without being urged on they started rubbing their trunks and shamelessly panted aloud doing it. The huge creature clearly delighted in them and each of the Orcs decided all of this was quite bizarre, yet highly arousing. “Look at me green gurks, look at me while you’re rubbing it!” They were taking peeks at the Dragon anyway, so being allowed to look was all encouragement they needed. Soon the Orcslime of their yearning made sticky dark spots in their yellow trunks, but they did not mind, absorbed into this unworldly yet highly arousing game. They started sweating too as the Lusts mounted, as they stood there rubbing up their Orctails for the Dragon. “Stop it!” The aroused Dragon gently hissed, but some were too hot to hear. “I said stop it!” The Dragon mocked to threaten them, and they stopped, panting and sweating. The Dragon got closer and sniff-inspected their slime-stained trunks. “Now look at you eager gurkies! Getting your trunks all wet and sticky like that.. Go on: take them off!” the aroused Orcs hesitated. “Don’t be shy! Show me what’s between the legs of the Oharac, the Ogac, the Oclac, Ocilaclac, Ozacac and the Ogaclac tribesmen! You’re mine, every bit of your green gurk bodies is mine so tug those shuttingcords and show me what you’ve been hiding!” More hesitation. “If you can’t take them off my Dwarves will happily assist..” The Dragon cheerfully volunteered and a quick glance showed the heated-up Dwarves indeed would most gladly help them out of those tight trunks. Something must have happened since it was the youngest of them, the warrior of Ogac, was the first one to tug his shuttingcord and pull down his torturing-tight trunks. The friendlier Dwarf walked up on the mat and took the Orcslime-soaked linen from him. “Aaaaah, look at that, look at that! A nice and stiff Orctail glistening in juices.. Step up to me and let me see it up close!” The Ogac complied and the Dragon sniffed and nudged the firm Orctail with his snout leaving a slimy streak on his bright red scales. “Fuck that me has bigger!” a heated Ocilacac growled and stripped off his trunks too, which the Dwarf took from him also. “These are two brave, brave gurkies!” The Dragon praised whipping his tail. The other Orcs saw this was good and fine and soon the Dwarf left the mat with six slimestained yellow Orc trunks.

“Look at the six of you eager little gurkies! Six big hard Orctails standing to attention! Well: your Dragonlord has something to show you too!” The Dragon got up and sat down at a corner of the mat, lining two sides of it with his muscular Dragon legs. Between them hung a pouch with two melon-sized Dragonballs and above that an enormous reptilian battering-ram five foot in length and almost a foot across. The Orcs gasped for air. Oh, they had all played nudiewrestle with Orc giants, but this treetrunk was simply beyond anything they had ever remotely conceived. They fell to their knees in lustful awe, unable to take their eyes of the fiery red monster. The Dragon laughed a thundering laugh that shook them. “Now you gurkies come and sniff THAT!” “It be so big!” the Ozacac gasped, but was not corrected for his lack of respect. “Come sniff it and feel how hard it is!” Ofcourse it was the Ogac who seemed beyond fear now. On his knees he crawled up to the Dragon and slowly licked his lustswollen lips. “Me.. Me may go touch Dragonlord?” “I insist!” The Ogac lay his hands on the big head and immediately a hard jet of slime splattered his face and chest and slowly started dripping off of him. “How’s that for a bath!” the Dragon lustfully joked, the Ogac licked it off his lips and tasted. “Mmm.. It smell good and taste good too. Me glad me allowed!” “Oh you’re allowed all right! I intend to give you all a facefull and THIS gurk’s next!” The Dragonlord grabbed the Oharac by his waist and held him just in front of his huge spouting slit. The Oharac could not help but lick it and got smacked with thick Dragonslime too. The other four now crowded eachother to get splattered too, and soon they were covered in the slippery goo that had a highly arousing smell and taste to it. “My dear slickened-up gurkies: Whenever I want and for every single night you will get to be my playthings. On the hundred’ day you shall be released to freedom but up until that time your sole purpose shall be to satisfy my lusts. On the hundred’ day you shall be clad once more but all days and nights my gurkies shall wear a snoutring but nothing to cover their bodies. Is that understood?” The Orcs nodded eagerly, blinded by their arousal. They would be kept nude like the animals, but would get to please this lewd Dragon for a hundred days on end. They had expected to die, but were cast into Orc Heaven for a hundred days alive and well! “I will now see you gurkies sniffing each other..” The Orcs turned to each other and started sniffing their slickened green bodies and touching, fondling, hugging… “My gurkies will now play together like the Orcs they are. Touch. Feel. Taste each other and give pleasure. I will see you wet this mat with your juices: that’s an order!” The Orcs needed no further enticements and crawled together in a cuddling-pile of rubbing, hugging, moaning Orcs increasingly absorbed into their sexual play under the watchful eyes of their four Dwarf masters and their Dragonlord who fondled his Dragonhood and splattered his slimes over the green pile of squirming Orc bodies, delighting in wetting every single Orc. The Ozacac found what he looked for, grabbed hold of the swollen Orcpouch and started slurping the big Orctail that shot its slimes into his mouth. He felt fingers probing between his buttocks knowing an Orcspear would soon follow, his fingers

found a stiffened nipple he started fondling. Moans and panting was all around, as was the sweating and the slick juices of Orc and Dragon alike, the latter making it into the slickest Orc Orgy each of them ever had been in. The Oclac got his pouch sucked and felt hot breath on his stiff spear as his rump was split by a big Orctail that relentlessly pushed inward while he licked the sole of an Orc foot his tongue could reach and was hugging someone green nearby. The Ocilacac was under vicious tugging attack which roughly shook his pouch, but could not help it as two strong smooth thighs clutched his head so he just licked the pouch and Orctail until his captor had to release him. The Dragonlord got seated on his knees and towered high above the moaning pile of lustful Orcs, tugging his Dragonhood and splattering the Orcs below with his thick hot fluids. The Orcs now slipped and slided in a puddle of slimes, being fully covered in it and writhing of lust on the slick treesap-leather of the soft mat. The Dwarves hungrily absorbed this sight and were glad their apprentice-gurks were quick learners. They could feel the heat of the steaming hot pile of moaning Orcs and shut their eyes in delight whenever an Orcish roar signaled another one of their gurks was spouting his seed. The Dragonlord was beside himself with joy. These were feisty gurks indeed! The Oharac couldn’t resist the licking anymore and roaring alout he shot his seed all over the Ocilacac’s face he held clutched between gis thighs and who eagerly opened his mouth trying hs best to catch it. The Oclac got rump-rammed hard and then felt himself getting slickened on the inside with Orc juices, which oozed out of him when the big Orctail was pulled out. The young Ogac got beside himself with lust as his tail was suckled good and firm and giggled hysterically because some Orc had grabbed hold of his ankle and mercilessly licked the sole of his green foot, being very ticklish there just like any Orc. He struggled frantically to escape the torture, but just for the fun of being forced. The Ozacac held the slickened Orcpouch tight and teasingly chewed on a stiff Orctail, the tips of his ears being squeezed hard by its owner just like he liked it, while his stick-hard tail and swollen pouch were held tight by an Orc who had his tongue inches deep between his buttocks and wriggled and squirmed there like a snake on a hot rock. The Oharac had not let the Orc’s head escape from between his legs and it kept on licking him. He tightened up and spouted his Orcseed again roaring uncontrollably, but a hard jet of Dragonslime slapped into his face and wide-open mouth making him swallow while spouting his own. The Dragonlord got intoxicated by watching the Orc orgy beneath him and his tugging mounted and mounted until he could contain it no longer. He raised his head in a deafening roar which made the Orcs stop and look and moan in delight as all of them were splattered with thick white Dragonseed of intoxicating fragrance and taste, which kept on spouting and spouting until a bucket could be filled with it. Panting with his whole body the Dragon looked down on his soaking-wet green minions. “Go on!!” he panted, “Play, my green gurks, show me your Orc Lust!” Growling and snarling the pile of Orcs tightened as they clutched each others bodies and tugged, licked and pushed their tails mouth and rump alike. The Dragon came to breath somewhat, but sat there watching the hypnotizing sight of six Orcs enveloped in a rapturous orgy, their slickened bodies slipping and sliding over one another in a huge puddle of slimes on

the soft sapleather mat. A roar was roared, Orc seed spouted upwards, the Dragonlord caught it with his hand and tasted the Orc’s essence while his enormous reptilian battering-ram receded to a no less impressive half-hard 4 foot length he squeezed the last juices out of. The Dragonseed had made the Orcs slick as oil on water and their bodies slided like eels in a bucket. Being covered in fragrant, salty Dragonseed was a turnon beyond belief and they got harder still as they orgied on. Now Orcs in lust can go on and on for hours, spouting their seed five, six, seven times before tiring a bit, and so they did and their squirming, moaning, panting and their roars of orgasm were quite something to behold. But finally even they reached satisfaction, and soon they just lay there wet with juices, panting and moaning their Orc bliss. The Dragonlord smiled and looked at his Orcish minions in full satisfaction. “You gurks go lie there for a while.. I’m very pleased with you and you’ve been real Orcs for me. You fresh gurks are a feisty bunch, our hundred days will be real sweet for all of us!” He patiently waited until his Orcs had regained themselves, and then teasingly spoke: “Now just look at you gurks: being all slick and slimy and wetting the gurkmat like that! I will now see you lick the mat and each other until it’s all clean and proper. Go lap it up now my gurkies: that’s an order too!” The tired Orcs got on all fours and set about their tasty task. For anyone not Orc this would’ve been quite a chore, but not so for these green gurks who happily and eagerly complied and licked the delicious juices, all the Orc sweat, slime and seed and above all pint after pint of the thick salty Dragonslimes off of the mat and each other’s green bodies. “Now look at them eagerly licking my goodie Dragonsquirts, I can see you’re liking it!” the Dragon lustfully teased and was quite right for licking the mat of their orgy and all that delicious goo off of each other’s bodies proved highly arousing, making the six green tribesmen half-hard in their Orctails again. It took about half an hour for there were more juices to be lapped op than a bucket could contain but finally the Orcs were ready licking each other and neatly rowed up on hands and knees awaiting further instruction. The Dragon squeezed his now soft Dragonhood, shook his hand and smacked some slime on the mat. “You missed a spot!” He teased, and watched with sparkshooting eyes how the Orcs crawled for it and fought to get to lick it up like they were doggies thrown a bone. Finally the six Orcs sat up, their tummies filled with all those delicious juices of Dragon and Orc. The Dragon looked down on them and solemnly promised: “And this shall be the evening meal of my gurks for every night of the hundred.” He fell silent and listened to the Orcs panting of the pleasures they had felt. “You’ve been fine, fine gurkies this first night. You’ve shown me you’re true Orcs and have brought much honor to your tribes. I have seen the six of you enjoyed this and you will remain so for the next hundred days, for your Orc bodies are now gurks to my lust and you’ll get fed and taken care of in trade for your seed. Overseers: gurkchain them and bring them to their cave. You may satisfy your lusts on them but

spare them the whip as they have pleased me much. The Dragonlord of Thunder Hill has spoken.” One of the Dwarves got on the mat that was still moist with Orc saliva and joined their snoutrings to the gurkchain. “On your feet!” The satisfied Orcs complied, their big Orctails half-hard with a sexual tension which endured beyond their satisfaction. They bowed down for their Dragonlord in sincere gratitude and then followed the Dwarf off of the mat. The friendlier Dwarf shook the sticky-wet Orc trunks in front of them. “Take a good look because you won’t see them again for a hundred days!” he cheerfully announced and the six aroused Orcs, naked except for their snoutrings and the gurkchain, followed the Dwarves to the smelly cave which was to become their home. The lead Dwarf swung open the steel bar door. “In!” The Orcs got in and found the fire still smoldering inside. “Kneel in front of the treetrunk!” the six chained Orcs complied. “Now bend down over it with your snouts on the ground and your Orc rumps in the air!” The Orcs reluctantly complied. Had not the Dragonlord ordered they should be spared the whip? “Arms on your backs, wrists together!” The Orcs complied and one of the Dwarves took six thick leather straps and buckled the wrists together of each of the six Orcs. Another of the Dwarves got a kind of gurkchain with leather straps and shut these snugly around their velvety Orc pouches, trapping and tying together the green warriors by their Orcballs. There they were: Six Orc warriors of six Orc tribes, nakedly gurkchained together, arms behind their backs laid over a treetrunk with a ballshackle that prevented them from getting up. All they could do was lie there with their bare Orcrumps in the air. “You’ve been good gurks..” The lead Dwarf praised, “You’ve given us quite a sight and the Dragonlord was very pleased with the six of you.” He smiled and they rowed up in front of them. “But Dragonlord said you’re ours now and since you’ve managed to please us too four of you are to be lucky gurks and will get a nice Dwarf rumping! Men: Pick yourselves a nice beefy gurkierump and pound away!” The Dwarves got behind them and all the Orcs could do was hope they’d get picked, as all of them were very willing to please their Dwarfmasters and get a poking for it too! All Orc rumps were thoroughly kneaded, felt and otherwise inspected, and it turned out to be the Ogaclac and the Ocilacac who merely got to listen to their friends panting and moaning intermingled with those of their Dwarven captors. The Dwarves had gotten very aroused that night, and the four lucky Orcs got quite a rumping for it. But finally the Dwarvish seed was liberated as the Dwarf Masters got their way with their fresh catch. “Consider the two of you to be next!” The lead Dwarf sternly promised the Orcs left out. “You’re promising gurks and I think you’re quite the catch. For this night we’ll leave you bound and if any of us so desires he’ll have your six gurk rumpies rowed up for him. Tomorrow you get to be gurks of burden as we’ll go plowing the fields. I suggest you go and sleep for we’ll work you like you’ve never been worked before. Whips’ll

crack and gurks will sweat, but we’ll keep you fit for the Dragonlord as you’re his. Welcome to Thunder Hill and a good night, fresh gurks!” The Dwarves left, slammed the steel bar door shut and locked it with two sharp clangs. Then the silence of night came over them and for some minutes they were quiet. “Now we truly be fucked good.” The Oclac concluded once more and all agreed, but in quite a different way as they did that morning. “Me not know who Orcs been fucking me but it been good and Dwarghs sure be good fuckers too. They not be bigtailed but they be knowing where Orc likes be poked!” “Me bit shame to say but me all hot on Dragonlord!” the young Ogac hesitantly confessed. “Anyone hand up who not be hot on Dragonlord!” the Oharac hissed and all bound Orcs chuckled. “He sure be good looks and smell good and spouting yummy Dragonstuff!” six Orcs licked their lips recalling the spicy salt of the Dragonslimes. “Oww!” “What be wrong?” “Me tried get up but that be tugging balls! We be tied-up good!” “Why you want and get up?” “Me just want see if me tied-up good. Us lying here rump-up must be yummy sight!” “You not be satisfied?” “In Orctail me is, but me never gets satisfied in eyes!” “Me be wanting go lick and rub and have tail of Dragonlord all for me!” “Then that gets be big nudie-fight because me go first!” “We all be getting turns hundred days in row…” The Oclac sighed. “Me be tied up nudie like gurk, me been rumped by Dwargh like gurk, me had go lick dragongoo like gurk and had to go fucking for big Dragon. Now me really feel like gurk..” “You be sad on it?” “Sad? Me will no Orc tell but me loves being little gurk fuckbeast for Dragonlord!” The Orcs chuckled, all of them intensely happy with the fate that had befallen them on the day that started out as one of the worst, but turned out to be one of the best days of their lives. They softly wispered on, enjoying the humiliating way they were tied up and what was to be their fate now they’d become lusting-gurks for a giant, friendly, exciting Dragon. One by one they yielded to the dreams of night and dreamed arousing Orc dreams. The next day proved one of hard, hard work with sweating and whips snapping on their bare rumps. They were worked hard, then fed again and rested, and the night proved more arousing than the one before. Days came and went, they lusted and orgied and although they remained mere gurks they got closer and closer to their Dragonlord and the stern but just Dwarves. Weeks yielded to months and the six Orc gurks came to not want to be anywhere but at Thunder Hill where they got worked and fed and where all of their lusts and desires were fulfilled to the utmost extreme.

But the hundred’ day came as it inevitably would and the six green gurks were offered their freedom. They all forsake it, choosing to remain with the Dragonlord for as long as tradition would allow, which was a year and one day. When that final day came there was a heartbreaking goodbye with sobbing and hugging and comforting. But such was tradition, and the six gurks of old had to yield to the six gurks of new as it has been for hundreds of years. The Orcs returned to their tribes like all gurks before them, unnoticed as the tribes were thousands strong. The bond forged between them was never broken, and having earned their places around the fires of the Brothers of Sacrifice they were part of sustaining the peace and relations between the tribes, and bound by secrecy they never revealed what was to be the faith of those sacrificed when spring came. The six of them became healthy, happy Orcs and their stars shone brighter than ever before. But whenever a falcon or vulture came flying in from afar, far enough as to not be clearly seen, a warm tickle of longing coursed through their bellies taking them back to the times they were the gurks of their Dragonlord of Thunder Hill.

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